


12 Hours

by 60sec400



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Chloè redemption, Countdown, Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, chloe has a breakdown, chloe is dramatic as usual, chloe throws a fit, marinette is confused, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-07 19:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10367943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/60sec400/pseuds/60sec400
Summary: Chloe Bourgeois. Princess of Paris. Her room was empty. Well, that wasn't true. It was certainly filled to the brim with expensive furniture and clothing. None of which could properly entertain the poor blonde girl who stood in the center. She'd thrown her fit. But it didn't have the same effect, not this time. Chloe-centric. Redemption Arc. Kinda.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am by no means receiving any money from this story, whose characters belong to Thomas Astruc and Zagtoon and only them. I am simply using them for personal, and other's enjoyment! Thank you and enjoy!

**0 Hours**

Her room was empty.

Well, that wasn’t true. It was certainly filled to the brim with expensive furniture and clothing. Expensive decorations. Expensive technology. None of which could properly entertain the poor blonde girl who stood in the center, a dress split in half and her face with tear tracks on them. She'd thrown her fit. But it didn't have the same effect, not this time.

**12 Hours Before**

Ladybug wasn’t looking at Chloe at all. In fact, Ladybug was standing rigidly with her back facing Chloe, arms crossed across her chest, staring down at an Akuma that was once again after the blonde girl. Ladybug turned then and Chloe smiled, but the woman in red only frowned. She but her hands on her hips and pursed her lips. Chat Noir, that mangy hero, was fighting the Akuma. He kept glancing over at Ladybug, but the Akuma was really interested in getting his Miraculous suddenly.

Ladybug huffed.

“What did you do?”

Chloe jumped. It was the first time Ladybug had said anything directly to Chloe all morning. She seemed grumpy. Chloe frowned. “I,” she placed a hand on her chest, “didn’t do anything! I don’t understand why all these Akumas are coming for me! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Ladybug mumbled something about finding that unbelievable and turned away again. She paused a moment and then turned back to Chloe, eyes narrowed. “I’m going to have to leave you to help Chat, so I need you to stay here and stay hidden. Alright?”

Chloe nodded solemnly. Ladybug gave her a small— keyword small— smile, and then launched her yo-yo off the roof of the building. Chloe walked over and sunk down beneath a chimney, thinking of the Akuma and Ladybug and the class she was missing this morning. The Akuma wasn’t even particularly good— just some guy Chloe had probably managed to piss off. Not that she did it on purpose, people just didn’t understand her.

Not that she was particularly open in the first place. Or that she gave them much room to understand her in the first place. She knelt beneath the chimney, her hands on her knees, and pouted. It wasn’t her fault that people were annoying and not good enough.

No, a small voice in her head that either sounded like her mother or Ladybug she couldn’t decide, it’s not your fault. But your response is your responsibility. Chloe brushed the thought away and pulled up from behind the chimney to peek over at the battle. Ladybug, Chat Noir, and the Akuma have seemingly disappeared. When Chloe turns around, Ladybug and Chat Noir are standing there. Ladybug looks as if she wants to be anywhere else but on that particular rooftop with them, but Chloe being simply who she was decided that it couldn’t be because of her.

She crossed her arms and thrust her hip to the side, tapping the roof impatiently with her foot. “Well?”

“The Akuma is gone,” Ladybug replied. “Chat can take you home, I gotta—.”

Chloe rushes forward and grabs Ladybug’s arm. “Oh, please! Can you take me! I definitely don’t want to be with that mangy cat!”

Chat Noir opened his mouth, hand up and finger pointedly rigidly to the sky with some reply that Chloe would promptly ignore, but Ladybug silenced him and pried Chloe off her arm. The blonde girl pouted, fumbling for her purse before she realized it had been thrown halfway across Paris from her room. Ladybug’s cure had probably returned it.

“Chloe,” Ladybug said with strained patience and the girl nearly glows when Ladybug says her name, “I can’t take you home. Chat is willing to so you don’t have to walk, but I need to go.” She unlatched her yo-yo from her hips and gave Chat Noir a salute before practically falling off the building. Her yo-yo zips and suddenly Ladybug is gone. The morning had passed by eventfully, and the thrill and her heartbeat are slowing down. Chloe turned to Chat Noir.

He looked like her lost a bet and he clicks his staff to make it longer and offers her a hand. Chloe glanced down at the clawed gloves. She looked back up. “I’ll walk.”

Chat seemed surprised but he only shrugged and took off without a thought, barely turning to give her half-hearted salute like Ladybug. Chloe stood there for a moment before whirling around for a way to get off. Most Parisian homes had stairs or ladders to access the roofs, but Chloe had barely been beyond anything less than what she lived in, much less on the roof of most homes in Paris. She gritted her teeth.

“ _Je suis fatigué de ça,_ ” she muttered, tip-toeing to the edge of the roof. Below her is a fire escape, worn from the elements and she gingerly climbed down and landed with a clang on the rusted metal. She wanted to cry— these white jeans were new, but she sucked in a breath and continued down the stairs until she landed in the wet cobblestone streets. It had rained the night before, a pounding summer rain, and Chloe was already half-drenched from being thrown around by the Akuma anyway.

This might as well happen, she thought, and continued down the street. She ignored some of the stairs she got from tourists, most if not all barely knew who she was anyway and would forget her after a few minutes. She was concerned, however, with apparent looks she was getting from the locals. If all of Paris could be called “local”, then the term fit— her father was the Mayor and well-known throughout the city. Where he went, Chloe went, and thus she would be recognizable the second anyone laid eyes on her. For the most part, it wasn’t always a fact which annoyed her to no end.

She slid into an ally, disgusted, and slipped off her yellow jacket. The jeans were ruined, no doubt, but now she could cover the rust and mud stains on her butt with her jacket. She wore a black and white striped tank and quickly let her hair out of the already ruined ponytail. Her blonde fell around her shoulders in curls and she picked up a strand and huffed.

Her stylist would kill her.

**11 Hours Before**

Chloe did, believe it or not, know the streets of Paris pretty well. It was that she just preferred being driven in a limo so everyone could see her importance. But once she ditched the limo and her general style she became a lot more anonymous. Most people barely spared her a second glance, and she was glad. For once in her life she was embarrassed and if she didn’t know any better, it would look like she was doing a damn pitiful walk of shame back to her house.

Well she’d been embarrassed before. But it wasn’t like her to admit it.

Besides, she needed to be as inconspicuous about the entire thing anyway. As much as she appeared to not care what her peers thought, Chloe knew most of them had been turned into Akumas because of her. It was just knowledge that was far, deep down in her mind just barely out of her reach and on the cusp of being near forgotten. More or less. Chloe was also aware that most of the Akumas had been after her— Sabrina’s had hit the most, if only because Chloe had been alone.

Lonely.

She swallowed and crossed a street into an alley that led into a side street where she could cut her walk down by five minutes. She passed a small boutique and stopped to stare at the sunflower dress in the window. It was cute, small, and Chloe knew she had a pair of shoes that would match. She reached to touch the glass when a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist.

“Hey!” she cried.

An older women held her wrist tightly, pulling Chloe forward. “ _Fille stupide!_ Some brat like you can’t afford clothes like this! Get away before you tarnish my reputation!”

Chloe opened her mouth, her eyes narrowing. “Do you even know who I am?”

“If you have to ask,” the woman snapped, “you’re not that important!” She pushed Chloe away and the girl lurched into a wall, her bare shoulder scraping the wall. The woman turned and flung her scarf over her shoulder, walking into her shop without a second thought. Chloe stood there, her facing going red. For a moment, anger surged up through her and she was half-tempted to slam the door into the shop and rip the woman a new one but then the anger bubbled away and she was left with a hallow feeling in her stomach. She spared the dress one more glance, thinking she could get one made just like it, maybe better, and then turned and continued her walk.

**10 Hours Before**

She got back to the hotel and went straight up to her room. School had been delayed for some early presentation and she would, technically, not be considered late. But the woman’s words replayed over and over in Chloe’s head; she was beginning to believe what the shop owner had said.

_If you have to ask, you’re not that important!”_

She gulped and turned over in her bed. She stared at her canopy and then looked over at her closet. It wasn’t enough.

If she wasn’t who she’d become, then who was she?

She sat up in her bed as the Butler entered the room. “I’ve brought you tea and some macaroons Mademoiselle Chloe, perhaps it would do you well to eat.”

She looked at the silver tray, her eyes heavy. “Can I have coffee?”

Her Butler barely faltered as he poured the milk into her tea, something her mother had always done. “You don’t like Coffee Mademoiselle Chloe.”

“I do now. Go get me coffee.” _Please_ , a voice hissed in her mind.

“As you wish,” the Butler said, grabbing the tray and disappearing around the corner. Chloe flopped back into her bed, scrolling through her phone. Sabrina had texted her fifty times in the two hours she’d been gone, asking about a pair of shoes and if Chloe was going to Fashion Week in New York. The red-head had proceeded to answer her own question, saying that of course Chloe was and it was ridiculous to think she wouldn’t go. Chloe tossed her phone to the side.

She wasn’t feeling particularly good about going to school, but that was the one thing she could never argue with her father about. He almost always gave what she wanted but public school and actually going was the one thing she had never won on. He never explicitly said it but it had been something Chloe knew her mother had been insistent about. You go, André, and you take her to your politics and your events and your shows. But Chloe will go to school, like a normal girl, and she will learn and grow and be the best she can be.

Chloe believed it— that she was the best. Her mother always said she was special.

But clearly not special enough for her to stay.

Chloe gripped a ladybug pillow in her hands before she tucked it under her arms and curled into a ball. Ladybug had thought Chloe was good enough to save. She squeezed the pillow tighter.

**9 Hours Before**

Chloe gripped her coffee tighter and slid into her seat. She had barely managed to get to school and she was hardly wearing anything worth noting. A pair of pastel shorts and a see-through tank. Her hair was loose and for once she didn’t mind it down. Sabrina kept glancing over, Chloe could feel her stares, but stared pointedly at the board in front of them. The class hadn’t started yet and just before the bell rang, Marinette stumbled in and tripped on Adrien’s bag, landing at the base of Chloe and Sabrina’s desk. Her pencil bag rolled out and hit Chloe’s foot.

“Sorry, Mademoiselle Bustier,” Marinette apologized, scrambling to grab her stuff.

Any other day of the week Chloe would have made a snide comment, and she had certainly thought of several, but instead she reached down and picked up the pencil case. It was cute and matched all the other stuff Marinette used in class, and handed it to her. Marinette blinked.

“Eh… _Merci_ , Chloe?”

“Welcome,” Chloe mumbled and then almost slammed her head on the desk. The thought that had just sprung to her mind making her want to die.

Marinette sat back in her chair, but Chloe paid her no mind. Mademoiselle Bustier had begun the class. Sabrina poked Chloe’s side.

“What?” she snapped.

“Oh, you’re okay,” Sabrina whispered, leaning over her tablet.

“I’m fine,” she replied, even though Sabrina hadn’t asked anything. The class was going over a writing assignment, and Sabrina leaned over ten minutes later, reassuring Chloe that she’d do everything.

“What’s the prompt?” Chloe asked.

Sabrina blinked. “What?”

Chloe sighed, turning toward the girl she somewhat considered her friend. But Sabrina had a view of Chloe, a way of seeing her that Chloe knew she perpetrated herself, and it hurt to think that if she were to change, Sabrina would leave. And as much as she acted annoyed or frustrated and downright petty to Sabrina, she was a friend. Was it friendship when one side of it manipulated, lied, and screamed at the other?

“What’s the prompt? You know, for the assignment?” Chloe repeated. She shoved her thoughts to the side.

“Oh, uh—.”

“I have to at least know what we’re talking about when we present,” Chloe said, her voice strained.

She wasn’t ready quite yet.

**8 Hours Before**

When the lunch bell rang, Chloe jumped up and turned to slam her hand on Marinette’s desk, prevent the girl from getting out without going the other way around. Marinette looked up, her eyes wide. The thought had been churning around in her head for the past hour and she decided, despite her conscious that she’d go through with it.

Alya, as annoying as she was, was stronger than Chloe had given her credit for. The girl jumped up, slinging her own bag over her shoulder, and gave Chloe a nasty look.

“Hey, what’s your problem?”

Chloe blinked. “My problem is you assuming I have one in the first place. I’m talking to Marinette, not you. So leave!”

Marinette sighed. “Don’t talk to Alya that way, first of all, and second of all when have you ever wanted to talk to me?” She stood up, holding her own bag, and shifted her weight on to her right leg so she was blocking Chloe and Alya.

Chloe huffed, crossing her arms. “About an hour ago when I decided to talk to you, obviously.”

Marinette nodded slowly. “Okay. Um… Alya, I meet you outside, just give a moment, okay?”

Alya looked as if she wanted to argue but she nodded, snatching her lunch bag off the desk and stomping out of the class room. Nino and Adrien followed her, the blonde model pausing on a brief moment to give a concerned glance to Marinette and Chloe. Marinette looked straight at Chloe, her eyes hard, and folded her arms across her chest. The class had emptied, Chloe telling Sabrina that she had some business to deal with and to wait for her in the library.

“Okay, Chloe, what do you want?”

“Can you make me a dress?”

Marinette blanched. “I… _what_?”

“Yeah. Can you make me a dress? You do design don’t you? I mean, you’re into fashion.” She glanced over Marinette. “Not that you can tell but…”

Marinette was split between looking angry and looking confused. “You ask me to do something for you and then insult me?”

“Ugh, sorry,” the word burned her tongue. “You _can_ make dresses though, right?”

“ _Bien sûr!_ Of course I can!” Marinette said. “I mean, I prefer skirts, bodices are really hard but…” her voice faded. “What’s it for?”

“To prove a point,” Chloe replied. She grabbed a small notebook out of her purse and wrote down a time. “I’ve gone through the whole process before. You need my measurements right? Can I come by later today, maybe?”

Marinette seemed to shake herself out of a daze. “I’m actually busy today, but I’m free this weekend. Is that okay?”

“Mm. I can make it work, I think,” she paused, tapping her lips with her bumblebee pen. “Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, I guess, Marinette!” She bounced down the stairs to the library.

She was between wanting to puke and wanting to smile. A warm feeling budded up in her stomach.

**7 Hours Before**

The rest of the school was spent with Marinette, Alya, and Sabrina all looking at her strangely. Chloe didn’t mind. For once, she was doing something good, and she felt infinitely better than she ever did before.

She pushed the feeling down.

**6 Hours Before**

There was another Akuma attack and school was dismissed. Chloe found herself being paraded back to her limo, Sabrina pulling her hand as an Akuma made of bright green slop launched goo around Paris. Anyone who was touched by the good melted into the ground.

It was probably the most frightened Chloe had ever felt. They watched as Ivan got struck, Mylène screaming. Chloe ducked behind a bookshelf before Sabrina dragged her bruised wrist from earlier that morning and tugged her to the front of the school. Surprisingly, a voice in her head said, this one isn’t your fault! That didn’t help the foreboding feeling she felt in her stomach as the front part of her limo got hit with the goo and literally melted into the cobblestone. She screamed, her chest tightening as she lost Sabrina and scrambled out of the limo. The Akuma was currently being tied up Ladybug and Chat Noir but the thing grew as it slimed over all the goo it created.

Ladybug was smacked out of the air, rolling to just several meters away from where Chloe was crouched behind an overturned half-melted car.

The yo-yo skidded across the road, hitting her foot.

Ladybug groaned, hefting herself up to a crouching position.

“Hey!” Chloe whispered, handing out the yo-yo. Ladybug looked at her, eyes wide, dodging a goo blast to grab the yo-yo.

“ _Merci_! Get somewhere safe!”

Ladybug launched herself off the light pole before Chloe mumbled her “you’re welcome”.

She watched Ladybug call out Lucky Charm, dodging a slime ball in the process, and was then slammed into the wall. Chloe bit her lip, turning from her view point to sprint across the plaza and toward the hotel. Ladybug said get somewhere safe. Chloe was out of there— she didn’t want to be turned into a slime ball, think of her clothes, and she didn’t want to distract Ladybug.

She paused, still running however, and thought about that for a moment. Was she a distraction? A measly annoyance.

**5 Hours Before**

“You’re not acting like yourself!”

“I almost died, Sabrina! And an Akuma attacked me this morning already, my day has been terrible!” Chloe snapped.

Sabrina, who was acting like Chloe had contracted some terrible disease, leaned over toward the blonde girl and pursed her lips. “Oh, no… are you still affected by the Akuma?”

Chloe wanted to scream. But then she thought better of it, her face contorting into one of fear. “Oh,” she lamented, throwing herself dramatically on her bed, “oh Sabrina what if I am?”

“Don’t worry, Chloe, we can fix you!”

Chloe sighed. “But what if we can’t? What if I’m stuck being… being nice to people forever!” she wailed, throwing her arms over her face and turning away from Sabrina. The girl wasn’t allowed on Chloe’s bed, so she stood off to the right of it, her hands folded under her chin as she pouted.

“Maybe being nice isn’t so bad—.”

“Are you kidding!? _Tue-moi!_ I’m doomed! My reputation will be tarnished forever!” Chloe said. She was voicing all her thoughts from today with someone who didn’t know they were part of an internal argument. “If I’m not me, Sabrina, then who am I?

“I don’t—.”

“Of course you don’t,” Chloe said, sitting up so fast her hair whipped around the top of her head and smacked her in the face. She pushed it over. “Tell me what to do!”

Sabrina looked like she was going to cry, and her eyes got small and watery and she tilted her head down so that she was crying toward the floor. Chloe threw herself back down on the bed. If she wasn’t mean, vindictive, manipulative… if she wasn’t loud, and bossy, and controlling… who was she? Would people still like her? Did they even already like her? Chloe was under the impression most people adored her? When had that changed? When she rejected Chat Noir’s offer to take her home this morning, or had this been a long time coming?

_If you have to ask, you’re not that important!_

 Would Sabrina, who’d thrown her life at Chloe, leave Chloe if she didn’t manipulate and keep her here? Would Sabrina, realizing that the girl she’d placed on the pedestal didn’t exist and that Chloe was really just sad and angry and wanted everyone to love her, leave?

Chloe didn’t know. She didn’t have an answer. She thought of all the girls in their class, Rose and Juleka and despite finding them both irrevocably annoying, had such a genuine friendship that they actually enjoyed each other’s company? Alix was athletic and well-liked and challenging and she made things exciting, even if she was poor and not girly at all. Alya was suave and funny and within two weeks of coming to their school she was well known.

And Marinette. Popular, smart, creative, pretty Marinette. A girl Chloe’s mother would have stayed for.

But that didn’t excuse anything, did it?

**4 Hours Before**

Sabrina left. Chloe went up to the top of the hotel and screamed.

**3 Hours Before**

She sat on her bed, blonde hair falling over her shoulders, and she looked at pictures. She found photographs of her mother and father. Visiting England, Germany, Austria, Italy, Morocco— family vacations when they were together. She looked at her as a child, in pretty Calvin Klein dresses and standing next to her father as he shook the President of France’s hand. Her mother was nowhere to be found. And then the pictures ended. Chloe closed the book, grabbing her phone and looking at the time in her calendar set aside for Marinette to make her dress.

She wished she could set aside her feelings like that. But Chloe had always worn her worst attributes like fake gold. She thought they’d been her best, but in the end it was all worth nothing.

**2 Hours Before**

She paced her room, back and forth, her butler watching her every move before it got late and he was dismissed. She’d barely seen her father all day. Sabrina had left in a messy stupor. Chloe was alone. She walked back and forth. She looked at all the things in her room. Her closet, her bed, her shoes, her clothes, her technology she’d asked for and then never used. She looked at everything, painted like a magazine cover. It wasn’t hers. There was nothing personal. It was empty inside. A façade. Just like her.

**1 Hour Before**

She screamed and cried and threw herself down on her couch. And when her father tried to enter the room, she yelled and threw the shoe at the door. It felt good. She needed to get her anger out.

**0 Hours**

Her room was empty.

Well, that wasn’t true. It was certainly filled to the brim with expensive furniture and clothing. Expensive decorations. Expensive technology. None of which could properly entertain the poor blonde girl who stood in the center, a dress split in half and her face with tear tracks on them. She'd thrown her fit. But it didn't have the same effect, not this time.

It didn’t make her any happier.

_Fin._

 


	2. The Dress

Chloe stood out by the back door behind the bakery. She had been half-tempted to go inside the front, but both Marinette’s parents were inside and Chloe had a feeling that this would be one time she would be recognized and wouldn’t want so. So she stood at the more formal back entrance and waited for Marinette to come downstairs. As much as she didn’t want to go the front, she was beginning to see that as her only option. Marinette hadn’t come down yet and Chloe was beginning to get odd stares from passerby’s. She stuck her tongue out at them the moment the door swung open.

“Oh, Marinette there you—.”

But at the door was a slightly surprised Madam Dupain-Cheng instead of Marinette. She blinked a moment before a small, but hesitant, smile crept on her face. “ _Bonjour_. Eh, are you here to see Marinette?”

Madam Dupain-Cheng’s French held a slight accent and Chloe, who’d never spoken to anyone in Marinette’s family sans Marinette, blinked a little surprised. “Um,” uh, so undignified, “ _Oui_. Is she here, uh, Madam Dupain-Cheng?”

“Just Madam Cheng or Sabine will suffice, Chloe. She’s upstairs. She didn’t mention that she was having anyone over,” Sabine said, moving over to allow Chloe to enter the house. “But then again, that girl would leave her head behind if she could. She’s up two flights and then on the first door on your right and then you’ll see another stairs going up into the loft. That’s where her room is.”

Chloe looked all around her. The smell of the bakery hit her face and she breathed in the warm air. They stood back behind the bakery and the huge ovens poured heat all around them. Sabine smiled apologetically.

“Sorry about the warmth. Afraid there’s not much we can do. I’ll bring some food up soon, it’s almost lunch.”

“Sabine!”                                                                            

“Coming, Tom!” Sabine called. “I’ll leave you to it then!”

Sabine left and Chloe stood in the foyer by herself. She glanced at her watch and then up at the stairs. Here she went. She found the door no problem, and slowly swung it open to reveal a living room and a kitchen. And as small as it was, Chloe found it all quite endearing, and wondered how much she’d enjoy sitting on the couch watching one of her shows. In front of the kitchen was a small stairs and a hatch that led to another room. Marinette’s room.

Chloe began climbing the stairs, knocking on the hatch, and then waited. She heard a thump, another thump, and then the hatch was opening to reveal a slightly disheveled Marinette in her pajamas.

The girl blinked. “Chloe?”

“It’s the weekend?”

Marinette blinked again, as if trying to clear her vision because it was practically unbelievable that Chloe was actually standing out of her room peering up at her through her own hatch. “Um. Oh! Oh right. I thought… okay. Come in.”

Marinette swung the hatch open completely and let it fall on the ground behind her. Chloe clambered up and stood in a largely pink room with a chaise in the corner and Marinette’s own bed elevated with another set of stairs. Underneath was a large corner desk opposite the chaise, with a computer and several shelves and compartments. Next to the chaise was a huge trunk, which either held clothes or sewing supplies, and a small room divider in the corner. The hatch fell shut and Chloe jumped at the sound.

“Okay so, no offense, but I didn’t think you were serious so let me get changed and then we can get started.”

Chloe didn’t even deny it. She shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Marinette smiled shyly and turned to rummage through her trunk. She flung out a small pair of shorts and a t-shirt that had a rumpled picture of Chat Noir on it. She mumbled something about being right back and opened a door behind the hatch that Chloe hadn’t even seen. A bathroom.

The room was surprisingly large, and it was cozier than anything Chloe owned. The small round window looked out onto the park and the above her bed was a skylight Chloe was certain could open. Marinette appeared a moment later, shutting the door. Her hair, still wildly flowing just barely past her shoulders, and longer than Chloe recalled.

“Okay so, um, let’s take your measurements,” Marinette said. She pulled out her small sketchbook and her measuring wrap. “You’re, uh, gonna need to strip.”

Chloe looked down at her clothes. A Calvin Klein blouse and another pair of designer jeans whose name she couldn’t remember. Her normal belt was wrapped around the pants and her hair was up in its usual ponytail. “Oh. Right.”

Marinette bit her lip and leaned forward. “Look, if you’re not comfortable…”

“Of course I’m comfortable,” Chloe snapped. She paused. Breathed. “Sorry. I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” Marinette said, one eyebrow raised at Chloe as if she were trying to figure her out. Chloe stripped down to her bra and her underwear and spread her arms out wide.  Marinette measured her and wrote it all down in her sketchbook.

After they finished, Chloe was slipping her own shirt back on, leaning over to look at Marinette’s sketches.

“So what type of dress do you want? I mean, summer’s coming up so I’m assuming you want a summery dress? You know, go out, get some coffee, live the Parisian life.”

“I don’t like coffee,” Chloe replied. “But yes, a summer dress. Naturally.”

Marinette blinked up at her. “You don’t like coffee?”

“Well…” Chloe hesitated. “It’s not that I don’t like it. I generally prefer tea. And that’s what I usually drink. But if I’m stressed I drink coffee. I’ve had three cups in the past, I don’t know, day. It’s miserable. My teeth are going to stain.”

Marinette nodded. “Why are you stressed?”

Chloe blanched. “Eh. You know. The normal things.”

She looked up at the wall behind Marinette’s wall. Pictures of Adrien’s modelling were plastered all over it. “Boys are dumb,” she said.

Marinette followed her gaze, wincing. “Uh—.”

“Oh, don’t worry about defending it. I’m not in the mood anyway. You’re doing me a favor. Well, kind of, I’m obviously going to pay you. Favors generally don’t mean you pay people.”

“You’re not? Wait, you are?”

Chloe turned and sat back on Marinette’s chaise. “I’ve been stressed this week. You know, the normal things— school, my dad, fashion, what I’m wearing the next week. But about other things too. I’ve been thinking about my mom a lot and… and myself, too. A lot of self-reflection. I am not a good person am I?” she asked bluntly.

“I don’t think I should answer that,” Marinette said quietly. “But actions speak louder than words. And your actions are really loud, Chloe.”

Chloe breathed a shaky breath. “I’m not, is what you’re saying. I get it. I do. I’m not a good person. I’ve realized that in the last couple of days. It’s what I’ve been thinking about. I guess you could say I had a bit of a mid-life crisis if a mid-life crisis occurred when you’re a quarter into your life, basically.”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Chloe sat up, looking at Marinette. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’ve come this far. So do you keep doing what you’ve been doing or do you change? Do you take a step back and say ‘I haven’t really been a good person’ and change or do you acknowledge that you aren’t and then just keep doing what you’ve been doing? Most people really don’t like you. Most people find you cruel and manipulative and a definite spoiled pest. I’m sorry. It hurts to hear. I understand, I think. You have to take that next step, Chloe. No one can take it for you.”

“Thanks, Marinette.”

Marinette’s eyes softened. “You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry. For everything. I’ve been terrible to you.”

“Yeah,” the girl agreed. “You have.”

Chloe had been somewhat looking for Marinette to lie and say it was okay. But that’s what everyone else in her life had always done and where had that gotten her?

“Well, I’m sorry. I know…” she sighed heavily, tears prickling her vision. “I know it isn’t an excuse. I was jealous of you.”

“I kinda figured,” Marinette said, wincing. “But I never knew why.”

“My mom,” Chloe said softly. “My mom she… well. I compared myself to you and I always thought that my mom wouldn’t have left if I was like you. She would have stayed if she had a daughter that was like you.”

Marinette’s eyes grew wide. “Chloe, I—.”

“What do you even say to that!” Chloe exclaimed, jumping up, the tears streaming down her red cheeks. “What do you say to a girl whose mom left her because her daughter wasn’t good enough for you? What do you say to a girl who has no mom and a dad who addresses her every whim!?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. I know… I know it isn’t my fault, Chloe. But I’m sorry that that happened to you. I’m sorry your mother left.”

Chloe grabbed a pillow from behind her and hugged it tightly. “Thank you,” she said. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

Marinette gave a small laugh. “I don’t know if I’ve forgiven you just yet. That’s something I need to work through on my own. It’ll be tough but maybe I can one day. You’ve done a lot of awful things. But you’re acknowledging them and, like me learning to forgive you, you’ll need to learn to do good things too. I know I’ve done pretty awful things— no one is perfect. A good person is good because they learn and know they’ve done some bad too. I think you’re a good person, Chloe. Really.”

“You think so?” Chloe said with a hiccup. She covered her mouth.

“You didn’t have to come to my room on a Saturday. You didn’t even have to commission me to make you a dress. But despite everything, despite you being really jealous of me for, admittedly, a legitimate reason I guess, you still did that. I understand, Chloe. I’m not excusing it, but I understand it,” Marinette explained. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her stomach. Chloe looked over and nodded. Marinette bit her lip.

“Look, I made a mistake. I… this girl was saying some pretty bad lies about me and I kinda just wrecked her in front of the guy she was saying it all to. She ran off crying. I don’t like liars and I think, no, I know I overreacted. But I went back and found her later and apologized. I told her I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I expected her to forgive me and she didn’t. She won’t have anything to do with me. I guess I understand and… it still bothers me though.”

Chloe listened, loosening her grip on the pillow. Marinette didn’t specify anyone in the class or at school, but there was one distinct person who Chloe knew was notorious for telling lies. Lila. But Marinette hadn’t, even after all that, wanted to ruin Lila’s impression of her. And a feeling she had rarely ever had rose up from her stomach. Pity. She felt bad for Lila.

“Thanks for telling me that. That really seriously sucks.”

Marinette shrugged. “Nothing you can do. Nothing I can do. I put my hand out to her, only thing she can do is accept it or reject it. There’s still time.”

“Just like there’s time for me?”

Marinette grinned, and it was that, before, Chloe had it found so infuriating, but now she found it welcoming. She smiled tentatively back.

“Definitely! You okay?”

Chloe rubbed her eyes, laughing just a little. “Yeah, yeah. I think so.”

“Great! Let’s talk about this dress! I know you want yellow flowers but picture blue with your hair!”

Chloe smiled wide, pulling out her phone to show Marinette what she planned. The two sat there for another few hours before Chloe had to leave. At the end, she gave Marinette a short but warm hug. She left with a chocolate croissant in her hand and a smile on her face.

A few weeks later and several more visits and Chloe had a blue A-line dress with a ribbon back that she wore to every summer event she could. It was her favorite dress. A couple more months later and she found a small red and black box sitting on her balcony, waiting for her to open it.

_Fin._


End file.
